To Heal a Sliced Wrist
by The-Missing-Paige
Summary: After Father is taken care of, Edward returns to Central with Alphonse. All seems peaceful, until Ed ends up in the hospital—for self-harming. Edward doesn't want anyone to know why he did it, but he'll have to in order to heal. AU after Brotherhood where Envy lives.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, or any related characters. Just the plot.**

**WARNING, PLEASE READ: This fic contains descriptions of self harm. It could be potentially triggering, so please be cautious while reading if you have self harmed in the past.** **(Also, if you have cut in the past, or you do now, please know that there are people who care, including me. Even if I don't know you, I don't want you to hurt. Stay strong loves.)**

**Also, I hope none of you take issue with the fact that I made it as though Envy had lived past Brotherhood. I had to. If you don't like that, sorry, this fic isn't for you. **

**Please review~**

* * *

The last time Roy had seen Alphonse Elric, he didn't look that healthy. Having just gotten his body back, Al had been frail and withered. Now, his face had fleshed out along with the rest of him, and for all intents and purposes, the boy looked fine.

Aside from the pallor of his face and the shaking in his hands.

Roy stood at his desk, alarmed by the sight. "Alphonse? What's happened? I didn't know you were back in Central…"

"It's Brother." Al's tone was soft, serious and even a little frightened, but Roy couldn't help but sigh. Wasn't it _always_ Fullmetal? Or rather, Edward, as he was no longer a State Alchemist…strange how the boy could still get into trouble, get hurt, even after leaving the military.

"What's he done this time?" Roy asked. "And why come to me?"

"Please," Alphonse begged, still pasty pale. "He's in the hospital; I don't know how to deal with this. You're the first person I thought of to ask…I trust you, and I know Brother kind of looks up to you even though he's never acted like it and…" the boy trailed off.

Roy didn't understand. "What exactly happened? He's gotten hurt plenty of times, you're more than capable of keeping him company on your own, I don't—"

To his surprise, Al grabbed his hand, clutching it in both of his own. The boy's palms were clammy, sticking slightly to the surface of Roy's glove. "Please! I—I can't explain what happened. I don't even think I can _say_ those words." Alphonse closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Listen, you have to come. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Brother's…he's really messed up, and he needs your help—_I_ need your help. You'll understand once you see him."

Roy looked down at the boy. Alphonse's eyes begged him silently, wet with unshed tears. His mouth tightened. He didn't like it, but whatever Edward had managed to get into this time must be serious. An he had to admit, the brothers' closest relatives were all the way back in Risembool; who else were they supposed to call on while in Central? Roy removed his hand from Al's grasp. "Fine, then. Lead the way."

Alphonse sighed in relief, turning and walking out of Roy's office. They didn't make it five feet before being stopped by a certain Lieutenant, who stared at them blankly.

"General Mustang, have you completed your paperwork?"

Roy sighed. "No, but—" he stopped as she pointed her gun at him; he hadn't even seen her draw the weapon.

"Lieutenant, please!" Alphonse begged, grabbing her arm. Roy stepped to the side slowly, taking himself out of the line of fire just in case the boy's jostling should result in a shot fired. "He has to come see Brother, it's important!"

Hawkeye stared at the boy dispassionately. "How important?"

Al let out a frustrated groan. "Look, he's in the hospital—"

The Lieutenant scoffed. "Isn't he always?"

"—in the psych ward!"

Both Roy and Hawkeye stared at the boy, the latter remaining silent but tucking her gun away after a tense moment. "Go on, then," she said. Alphonse scurried out of the door, pulling Roy behind him.

"Alphonse," Roy asked, matching the boy's stride as they made their way down the street. "Why would Edward be in the psych ward?"

Al didn't give an answer, but sped up as the white building came into view.

He stopped at the hospital's front desk, joining the line that had accumulated there, and Roy snorted. He kept walking, flashing his State Alchemist's watch at the staff as they opened their mouths. Said staff pursed their lips, but remained silent, and Alphonse scampered to catch up with Roy and take the lead. He could have laughed, if the situation wasn't so serious. Ah, the perks of being part of the military.

Upon reaching what Roy presumed was Edward's room, Alphonse stopped suddenly, almost causing Roy to crash into him. Al hesitated, turning to Roy. "He's probably still asleep, but even so, don't say anything sarcastic. I don't know how he'd take it if he happened to hear you, in this state…"

"Just open the door, Alphonse." Roy was impatient; he needed to know why he had been brought here and what Edward could have done to be put in the mental hospital. In a fit of ill-timed comedy, he wondered if it had anything to do with the boy's aversion to milk.

Al swung open the door and walked inside. Roy watched him carefully, disturbed by the hunch in the younger Elric's shoulders.

If that was distressing, it was nothing compared to the state of the boy on the bed. Any potential witty comment died in his throat as Roy took in the scene.

Edward was dressed in a hospital gown, his hair flowing freely. Roy couldn't recall the last time he had seen it that way; it stuck him as oddly obscene, as if Ed were being bared, weak and vulnerable, for all to see. But that was nothing. Immediately, Roy's eyes were drawn to the bandages on Edward's arms, stretching from wrist to elbow on both limbs.

The psych ward and arms covered in gauze. No. It couldn't be.

"Alphonse?" Roy didn't mean to whisper; it just seemed natural. Though he could clearly see Ed's chest rising and falling, his brow creasing occasionally in reaction to whatever dreams he was having, Roy felt as though he was in the presence of death. He didn't want to speak lest he wake up whatever monster had caused this.

"Yes, it's what you think it is." The boy spoke in a monotone, eyes transfixed on his brother. "It's unbelievable, I know. Like I said before, I can't even—can't even say it." Alphonse swallowed thickly. "Brother cut himself."

Roy couldn't say anything, too stunned to think. How could this happen?

Al, on the other hand, couldn't seem to stop talking now that he had started. "I found him doing it. He'd already cut up one arm when I was in the door, and his legs too—you can't see, but he's got bandages all up and down his thighs. Brother was halfway up the other arm when I walked in…he was kneeling, crying, and when he looked up at me he was so…distant." Roy saw the telltale glint of a tear sliding down Al's cheek. "It reminded me of just after we tried to bring Mom back. He kept going, and I grabbed the blade away. At that point he had lost so much blood…he passed out. Brother hasn't woken up since."

"When was this?"

"This afternoon," Alphonse sniffed, wiping his eyes. Roy glanced out the window, at the sun nearing the horizon as it began to set. "I just—I just don't understand. Was it me?" Al looked to him desperately, guilt shining in his eyes.

"No," Roy said, voice stronger than it had been since he entered the room. "No, there's no way this was about you. Edward loves you more than anything; look at what he gave up bringing your body back. Whatever he was thinking of when he did this, it's not your fault, Alphonse."

The boy walked a few steps and collapsed into a chair beside Ed's bed. Roy, looking around for the first time, realized that the room was vacant, without even another bed for any additional occupants—just two chairs. It was also carefully composed, with nothing sharp to be seen. This room was meant for a single, long-term patient and his or her rehabilitation. It should have made Roy feel better, knowing that Edward was in a safe place, but it just made him sad.

He took up residence in the only other chair, placed on the opposite side of Ed's bed. Alphonse spoke.

"I just need to understand, you know? I need to know why he did this…"

Roy couldn't agree more. How did someone so strong end up doing something as unspeakable as self harming? Why would Edward want to?

He sighed. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait for him to wake up."


	2. Chapter 2

The silence between them was long and oppressive. Alphonse was lost in his own world, and Roy had no idea what to tell the poor kid to bring him out of it. After all, how could you comfort someone confronted with a brother who was self harming? Especially—Roy tried not to think this, but the words forced themselves into his mind—if Edward had had more than _harm_ in mind when he was cutting…

A faint groan issued from the blonde on the bed that had Roy and Al jumping up, mirroring each other's movements precisely. Ed stirred, slowly opening his eyes. "Ow," he muttered, squinting up at the hospital's fluorescent lighting. He moved one arm over his eyes. "Shit!" Edward sat up, hastily placing his arm back at his side, wincing.

"Brother?" Alphonse asked timidly.

"Al?" Ed looked confused for a moment, and then—"Oh, shit, shit, shit." He looked around, taking in the scrubbed surfaces, and then down at himself, all bandages and hospital gown. It was then that he noticed Roy. "What's he doing here?"

Al answered in a whisper. "I—I asked him to come. You need help, Brother...and I didn't know what to do."

The blonde seemed unable to hold either of their gazes, instead flopping back down onto the bed and covering his face with a pillow. "This wasn't supposed to happen," came the muted words.

"Then what was?" Roy inquired. "What did you expect?"

"I am _not_ having this conversation with you."

While it seemed that Alphonse intended to handle his brother with care, Roy had a different method in mind. He ripped the pillow from Edward's hands, causing the boy to cry out as his arms were jerked. Roy bent down and held Ed's face in place, forcing the blonde to look him in the eye. "Look, I know you're in pain, and I want to help you, but you _are_ going to have this conversation with me. Al found you slicing your wrists open, and if you're not going to answer for yourself, you at least owe him an explanation."

Edward glanced guiltily at Alphonse, sitting up once more. Roy released his face, and the boy's gaze fell to his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Why, Brother?" Alphonse had tears in his eyes. "Why would you do that?"

"I'm sorry," Ed stated once more. "It's just…the cutting helps. It distracts me, helps me to not think when I don't want to have to. The pain makes me forget…everything else." His next words were soft, barely audible, and he spoke them gingerly, as if it hurt to make the confession aloud. "And I deserve it."

Al began to tremble slightly. Roy felt for the boy—he could fight against his brother's side, but when the blonde was evidently fighting against himself, what was Alphonse to do?

"Edward," Roy said gently, "why do you need to be distracted? What are you trying to forget?"

The boy, having gotten so quiet and almost docile, glared up at him and snapped, "It's not of your business!" At Al's responding squeak, he calmed. "It's nothing you did, Al. It's me, it's my fault. I know you're blaming yourself, and I'm sorry you had to see that, but it's not you."

"Then tell us what it is," Roy demanded.

"Me!" Edward rounded on him. "I just told you, it's me, all my fucking fault! Can't we just leave it at that?"

"Let me ask you a question." Roy fought to control his voice. He felt for the blonde, he really did, but he couldn't help being angry as well. "Were you _just_ cutting to get rid of the pain, or were you trying to kill yourself?"

The following silence was broken only by the sounds of Al's increasingly labored breathing, and the soft hissing of hospital sheets as Edward fidgeted. Eventually, he responded, voice quavering. "I…don't know."

Roy looked at him sadly. "Do you really want to die, Edward?"

"I don't know."

"Brother," Alphonse pleaded. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," the blonde insisted. "I don't know if I want to live, if I deserve to live."

"Do you want to keep feeling like you do?" Roy asked.

Ed seemed to consider this carefully. "No," he replied. "No. I hate it. I hate hating myself and feeling guilty all the time, and I hate feeling like cutting myself open is the only way to atone for my sins. And I hate that it feels so good, so right when I do, like I made a good decision. I hate that you and Al had to find out when I only wanted to hurt myself, no one else."

Roy regarded the boy on the bed silently. He couldn't seem to stop rubbing the bandages, perhaps trying to make the cuts reopen, perhaps simply wanting to feel the devastation he had caused.

He was about to speak when Alphonse interrupted. "Brother, how could you like doing that to yourself?"

Edward shook his head. "You don't want to know, Al."

"Yes, I do."

Ed took a deep breath. When he let it out, he spoke, voice sickeningly excited by what he was saying. "It's…exhilarating. Building up to that moment, everything is pain, so deep you feel like you're drowning in it. I grab the knife, or whatever blade I can find, and I'm just drawn towards it. I want to punish myself, and at the same time I know that, in a way, it's going to feel fantastic to do so. And when I cut…it's like my head clears and fogs at the same time. The physical pain takes my breath away, and the sight of my blood distracts me from any other thought…but it doesn't last long, and I have to do it again, and again…" the blonde stopped, breathless. Alphonse looked like he was going to be sick, but rested a hand on Ed's shoulder.

"Ed," Roy murmured. "That's not healthy, and you know it. And I think that deep down, you want to get better."

"Not that deep," Edward muttered. "It feels good, but being happy felt better."

"Exactly," Roy continued. "But we can't help you if we don't know why you feel the need to do this."

The boy looked from him, to Al, to his shaking wrists. "I hate myself."

Roy was becoming impatient. "You already said that—"

"Let me finish!" Ed insisted. "I hate myself because of _why_ I'm hurting. I—look, this sounds so stupid and stereotypical—I…fell in love. With this…guy."

Roy raised his eyebrows, while Alphonse furrowed his. Surely they were both thinking the same thing: that Edward was much too confident to do this to himself because of his sexuality.

The blonde kept going. "And I'll admit, some of the pain is because I know he could never love me back. That sucks beyond belief." He rubbed at his wrists again, harder, golden eyes staring but far away. "But the biggest thing is _who_ it is. He's honestly the worst person I know. He's…_evil_, there's no other way to put it. And I _can't stand_ the fact that I love him. I don't know why I do, and I hate myself for loving someone so despicable."

Roy still found himself to be uncomprehending. "I'm not trying to be insensitive, but can't you just…find someone else?"

"That's the thing," Ed muttered. "I can't. I've tried, but I can't stop thinking of him, wanting him. Fate has it out for me; I finally find my soul mate, and he's someone I not only can't have, but shouldn't want in the first place."

"Brother," Alphonse asked. "Who _is_ this person?"

Edward acted as though he had not heard the question. Before Al could push him further, Roy interjected his own statement. "Ed, whoever this person is, you can't be doing this to yourself over them. I'm not one to get all heart-to-heart, but you need to know that you're worth more than that. " Al nodded in agreement.

Ed stared at the two of them, eyes flashing. "Do either of you know what it's like to love someone who's killed people, and enjoyed it? Do you know how little that makes you think of yourself? _That's_ why I cut; because I am disgusting, able to forget what he's done and even hope that he could change, even though I know it's hopeless, because I love him. Do you know what it's like to hate yourself so thoroughly?"

Neither Roy nor Al could find a response.

"I didn't think so."


	3. Chapter 3

It hadn't been easy for Edward to fall asleep—the boy had tossed and turned relentlessly, finding no peace even when Roy and Al left the room to get something to eat. Ed had refused dinner as well, claiming that he was too tired for food, but it seemed his mind could not stop churning long enough for him to get his much sought after rest.

It was dark in the hospital when the blonde began to breathe easy, long after normal visitation hours had ended (Roy had had to pull a few strings to get the staff to allow him and Alphonse to stay late). Roy released a quiet breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and turned to Al to share in their relief that Ed was finally asleep—but the younger Elric was out cold.

Roy rose slowly, shaking his head. Poor Alphonse—how could he be expected to handle this stress? No wonder he was exhausted.

Roy checked the clock; a little after midnight. Edward was in the capable hands of the nurses, and Al was there. It was time for him to leave, get some rest and get to work the next morning. He would visit Ed again in the afternoon.

He had only taken two steps, wincing at the squeaking of his boots on the immaculate floor, when a tired voice sounded behind him.

"Don't go."

Roy had to turn, physically see Edward watching him, before he could believe that such a pitiful, hushed sound could come from the boy. He took one step back towards the bed.

"Ed, I have to. I'll be back tomorrow."

For a moment Roy was afraid he had hurt the blonde, in his fragile state, with these words, but Edward merely sighed. "I know," he whispered, picking at the edges of his bandages—it was really quite disturbing how preoccupied he was with the gauze, and the wounds hidden beneath. "But…" he continued, "I just feel…I dunno, safer when you're here. Better, I guess."

Roy raised his eyebrows, though it was probably too dark for Ed to pick up on the motion. "You have Al, even if he is asleep."

"That's true," Ed sighed. "It's just that the more people I have around me, the better I feel. I never got, never _get _the urge to cut until I'm alone. Being around Al helps, and when you're here as well it's better."

Roy thought his heart was going to give out. How could he refuse to stay when the boy put it that way? But…why would Edward want him here, him specifically? The answer: he probably wouldn't.

"Ed, if you could have anyone with you here, right now, who would you choose? I'm sure having people in general around you helps, but there must be some person, or people who I could call specifically that would be best. What about that Pinako woman, or Winry?"

The blonde bit his lip, and Roy had a brief flash of panic that he would try to bite straight through the tender flesh. He didn't answer. "Come on," Roy prompted, "there must be someone."

Abruptly, Edward brought his hands to his head, clutching at his hair and shaking his head. "No, just—no."

The distress, the way the boy stumbled over his words—Roy didn't believe him. "Are you sure?" He paused, thinking for a moment. "What about the guy?"

Roy didn't even have the chance to elaborate before Edward got the point: "No. No, I…" he trailed off.

"You can't tell me you wouldn't like to see the man you…love, Ed." Roy still couldn't believe he was using that term, "love," when this mystery person was obviously causing Edward so much pain. Still, if the boy insisted he was in love, Roy would accept that.

"I know," the blonde whispered, sitting up but refusing to look at Roy. "I _do_ want to see him. But aside from the fact that he would probably try to kill me, it would just remind me how horrible he is. How much I _shouldn't_ love him…"

Roy debated for a moment. While he could see that Ed really was tearing himself up about loving this mystery guy—and that might translate to him getting worse should he see the man—the boy might also benefit from seeing someone he was so enamored with. "But wouldn't it also make you happy? Maybe he's changed."

Edward laughed, a sick, hollow sound. "I don't think he _can_."

Roy was quiet. "Do you want to see him?" he murmured.

The persistence of this one question was wearing Ed down. He shuffled awkwardly, picked at his bandages. "Yes," he muttered finally, giving in.

Silence took over the room. Edward continued to fidget, glancing up at Roy every now and again. He scratched briefly at his taped wrists, and Roy still waited.

"What?" the blonde asked eventually, the quiet apparently unsettling to him.

Roy again raised his eyebrows. Surely Ed knew what he was going to have to say next. "If you want me to find him, you're going to have to tell me who it is."

The boy in front of him gaped, spluttered. "I—I can't!"

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Edward's condition teetering on the edge of such a high cliff, Roy would have laughed. "How am I supposed to find someone when I don't know who I'm looking for?"

Ed bristled slightly in indignance. "I know you can't!" he half-shouted, causing Al to stir slightly. Once his brother stilled, the blonde went on in a hushed voice. "But…" his eyes became downcast. "I can't possibly tell you."

Roy laid his hand on Edward's shoulder, a small gesture of comfort. "Of course you can," he assured, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

The boy quivered slightly under his hand. Edward brushed his hair (still loose) out of his face and looked up at Roy. His eyes shone not with the usual spirit, but with fear and hesitation. "I'm not _embarrassed_, exactly. I just…if I tell you…" the blonde trembled, seeming to have to force the words from his throat. "If I tell you, you'll hate me."

"I won't—"

"And as bad as it is to hate myself," Ed went on, acting oblivious to Roy's interrupted assertion, "I can't imagine how much worse it would hurt to have someone else hate me too." Admitting this evidently caused Edward a great deal of discomfort; the boy curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees tightly, crossed feet hiding his gaping hospital gown.

Roy frowned. How bad did this person have to be for Ed to believe he would be hated for loving him? "Edward, whoever it is, I won't hate you. I promise."

"You'll be mad," the blonde countered.

"I can be angry and not like it and still not hate you."

"It's—" Edward paused, almost as though for dramatic effect, though Roy knew it was because of the difficulty in getting the name out. "Envy."

Though the name was whispered, Roy felt as though it reverberated around the room, growing louder and louder. Envy. Envy! An immediate rage filled him.

And then there was disbelief, and confusion. How could Edward have fallen in love with that homicidal, sadistic, bastard of a pseudo-human!?

Roy looked down at Ed, fully prepared to tell him that was a sick joke in the best of times, and certainly not appropriate for his current situation—but the boy's eyes disarmed him.

Full of longing mixed with self-disgust, the golden irises shone as though illuminated from within—or from the tears gathering slowly in the corners of the eyes. Roy saw hope there, and fear…and truth.

He took a breath, controlled his voice, and spoke one word. "Goodnight."

And Roy walked out of the hospital room, leaving the once-great alchemist in his pitiable state, not believing what he was setting out to do.


	4. Chapter 4

People were just plain _wrong_ when they said they were so mad they were seeing red.

Roy was so furious, he couldn't see at all.

He rushed out of the hospital as anger flooded through him, the waves growing higher and higher with every heartbeat. He had to get out of there before he destroyed something, someone.

Roy almost never got this _pissed_. But how could he help it? Envy. How could it be Envy?! The homunculus who murdered Maes Hughes…

Safe now from the confines of the hospital, Roy screamed. He sounded like an animal, striding down the street snarling and growling with twitching hands. He just couldn't resist—

A snap, and a shot of fire blackened an old brick wall. The flames were like a physical extension of Roy's anger. Consumed by grief, rage, the desire for revenge…Roy wanted to burn, burn everything, _burn that motherfucker to the ground!_

Another snap, and a garbage can practically exploded, its contents reduced to ashes.

Roy tried to breathe, tried to calm himself, but there was murder in his blood now and he needed to hurt something.

Thankfully, a small part of him retained its composure. He was a human. But this destruction, setting fire to innocent buildings was not something any respectable person did. He was losing himself to his anger, acting…acting almost like Envy.

The thought brought him up short, extinguished the boiling rage inside him, reducing it to a simmering that Roy was confident he could deal with without injuring anyone or anything.

He breathed, forcing himself out of shallow pants and into deep, composed lungfuls of oxygen.

Briefly he considered if he was angry at Edward, but immediately dismissed the thought. Obviously, the boy _knew_ how shitty his partner-picking skills were; that was half the reason he had been reduced to self harm in the first place. Even if Roy had wanted to punish the blonde for his—he almost gagged just thinking about it, now—_love_, there was nothing he could do that would be worse than the anguish Ed was putting himself through.

But now what?

Roy acknowledged his role in the Elric brothers' lives. He had brought them to the military. In his mind, Roy had been the one to bring Edward out of the dark place he was in after trying to resurrect his mother, to give the boy hope again—though that could just be his ego speaking. Roy was the person who was constantly around the brothers, almost like a father figure in the place of their dead parents and Pinako, who remained in Risembool. One could almost say Roy had grown accustomed to the role; indeed, he _did_ feel rather like a parent to Ed and Al.

So how was he to handle this?

Roy placed before himself a harder question. Would a father choose vengeance for his best friend, defend the memory of the man, or bring his son what he wanted, maybe needed, even if he thought it was just about the worst idea ever?

He ran his gloved hands through his hair in agitation. A parent was supposed to put his children first. Well, Roy wasn't _actually _a parent. That changed things, right? Besides, though he had been convinced while in the hospital room that seeing the man he loved would help Edward, Roy wasn't too sure now. What good could seeing a homicidal freak do the boy?

Roy groaned as a thought came to him: what if seeing Envy, rather than just thinking of him, made Ed realize how horrible the homunculus was and _get over_ him? That idea made it seem rather reasonable to hunt the bastard down.

The question was: could Roy do it? Could he face the being he hated more than anyone for Edward's sake?

Well, there was only one way to find out. Roy would track Envy down, and if he could control himself, he would take the homunculus to the hospital and get it over with. If he couldn't, he'd kill the son of a bitch and tell Edward he just couldn't find him.

Resolute now, with a disturbingly large portion of him still crying out for the blood of a homunculus, Roy began his search.

* * *

He sat in the old lair of the homunculi and Father, waiting.

Roy had been there for some time, though with the place being underground he had no indication of whether daylight had broken yet. He had paced, he had burnt up some old stones in another fit of anger, he had sat down and tried to relax (not that resting was exactly possible in his current state).

Countless times Roy had decided to call it quits. This was the only place he could think of that he would find Envy, especially considering if he was anywhere else the homunculus would probably be in disguise. Besides, Roy was anything but eager to come face to face with the murderer again.

But he was still clinging to the hope that seeing Envy would rid Ed both of his love for the homunculus, and his desire to cut thereafter.

Still, if Roy had to wait much longer, he would have to leave. The chances of Envy showing up were, after all, quite slim.

* * *

A quiet, rhythmical tapping alerted Roy to someone approaching. Anger flared inside him again at the thought that this would, more than likely, be Envy. As a precaution, Roy removed his gloves and placed them in his pocket—even though he no longer needed a transmutation circle for alchemy, he did need his spark gloves, and not having them should help him _not_ murder Envy. The sound was growing louder, echoing around the tunnels.

Just as he expected, the homunculus burst into the room at a run, though Envy stopped suddenly upon seeing Roy.

Looking at the homunculus was worse than he had expected. He raised a hand, snapped, and nothing happened. It was good that Roy had had the foresight to remove his gloves.

The homunculus before him crouched low, his posture defensive, but Envy did not attack. Perhaps he was remembering their last encounter, and wasn't eager to be burnt again. However, when Roy's snap came up empty, Envy laughed, purple eyes widening.

"What's wrong, no fire today?"

Roy scowled. "The gloves are in my pocket," he said, voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. "It would only take me a moment to get them out."

"So why don't you?" Envy mocked, placing his hands on his hips and leaning forward. "Don't you want to kill me? Isn't that why you're here?"

Roy's hands twitched, inching towards his pockets. "_Yes_," he hissed. "I want to kill you. I want to see you burn and _laugh_ when you scream. But that's not why I'm here."

"Why then? Miss my pretty face?" Envy taunted.

Roy stepped forward. "You remember. Remember the pain you felt the last time I burnt you. Remember how loud you yelled and how much you thrashed. Remember seeing your flesh aflame and healing, only to be hit again."

This gave the homunculus pause. He leaned back infinitesimally, glaring at Roy but not speaking.

"I don't want to be here," he continued, glaring. "But I have to be. I have to bring you with me. Edward's…he's in the hospital, and you need to come." Even to himself, the words sounded ridiculous.

Envy stared for a moment, and then laughed, the disquieting noise rising in volume. "Why?" he half-shouted in mirth. "Why would I have to go see the pipsqueak in the hospital?"

Roy ground his teeth at the display. "Because he asked for you."

More cackling, like a hyena. Envy slapped at the air, violet eyes lighting up. He pretended to wipe away a tear. "Holy shit, let's go! I can't _wait_ to tease the shrimp about this, oh this is _priceless_—"

Taking advantage of his distraction, Roy slammed into Envy, pushing him against the wall. The homunculus still grinned. "You piece of shit," Roy whispered. "You son of a bitch, you bastard, jackass!" His voice rose in volume. "You have no idea how much I wish I could kill you. But Ed needs to see you, and I hope doing so makes him hate you. Maybe then he'll let me destroy you." The homunculus rolled his eyes, though Roy thought he detected a small glimmer of fear.

He released Envy, who caught himself on his feet. "You'll understand—no, I take that back, you don't have enough _heart_ to understand. You'll get your explanation when you see Edward. But I'm warning you; if you hurt that boy after you see what he's been through, I will kill you without hesitation."

Envy smiled slightly, as though enjoying a private joke, his eyes teasing Roy. He made a slight, sarcastic bow, and led the way out.


	5. Chapter 5

Roy walked into Edward's room first. He was arguing with a nurse, but he stopped as soon as he spotted the man and launched into an apology.

"Look I know it's wrong, I'm sorry—"

Roy held up a hand to silence him. "It doesn't matter," he said, tired and tense. "I brought what you wanted."

"What…?" Ed was confused, his eyes widening as Envy bounced into the room, raising his eyebrows and grinning.

Alphonse was the first to speak. "What the hell did you bring _him_ here for, Colonel?" he asked, standing in front of Edward's bed defensively.

Envy answered, leaning around Al to speak directly to Ed. "I hear you wanted to see me, Shorty."

Edward couldn't handle all the emotions rising up within him. First, and most acutely, embarrassment. So Envy knew he wanted to see him…Ed felt his face color. Of course, there was happiness mixed in; little as he wanted to admit it, Edward _liked_ seeing Envy again. A wave of anger and hatred rose up as well, directed inward as Ed acknowledged once again his attraction to the homicidal homunculus.

Before he had to make up an explanation, the nurse interrupted, seeming unfazed by the entry of the (as always) scantily clad Envy. "Look, Mr. Elric, I have to change these bandages _now_. I have other patients to get to."

Edward looked around, surrounded by Envy, Roy, and Alphonse. He gulped, not sure he wanted them to see; Al had already, but Roy and Envy…

The nurse cut down the back of the gauze on his right wrist, and—oddly enough—it was Envy who gasped.

* * *

Envy hadn't been told what it was the pipsqueak was in the hospital for. Honestly, he didn't care; this was just an opportunity to annoy someone he loved to pester. So what if Mustang was threatening his life? It wasn't the first time.

When Envy walked into the room, his eyes had been drawn to the stark white bandages on the shrimp's arms. Alarm bells started to chime, but he didn't really believe it until he saw the wrist unwrapped.

Whereas once there had been smooth flesh, now there were a myriad of cuts, some deep, some shallow. One stood out, just below Edward's hand, that was held together by black stitches. Up to his elbow, the cuts made a ladder, some leaking slightly. It was so strange, even to Envy, who loved pain. He just couldn't imagine the pipsqueak doing this to himself. Eyes straining, he saw faint scars under the new cuts; this wasn't the first time.

The nurse didn't even hesitate, wrapping the wrist in fresh gauze and moving to the next. The left was much worse than the right, with several lines of stitches running along Edward's wrist. Envy watched the shrimp closely, seeing him wince slightly as the gauze was pulled around his wounds.

He relaxed, thinking it to be over, but the nurse hiked up the pipsqueak's gown—causing him to squeal and hastily pull enough of the cloth down to cover himself—and revealed bandaged thighs.

There were more old scars on Edward's legs than there had been on his wrists, and plenty of fresh cuts as well. These were leaking worse, and some were producing streams of blood, having reopened completely. The boy, Envy noticed, wouldn't meet any of their eyes, instead staring at the floor.

Envy looked to his right, and saw Mustang clenching his teeth. The brother, Alphonse, looked like he was going to throw up.

It was strange, but Envy could relate.

The scene made him want to puke. He loved violence, loved the screams and the blood and the sudden silence when a victim succumbed to their wounds…but this struck a chord within Envy.

He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but Envy knew a thing or two about hating yourself, wanting you hurt yourself. Of course, that didn't do much when you regenerated moments after being injured. Still, Envy couldn't say he hadn't tried, couldn't say he'd never hated himself enough to want to bring destruction upon his own body.

They were emotions Envy couldn't believe would dare manifest themselves in someone like Edward. That stupid little pipsqueak, who was always so hopeful and caring and strong…who was someone Envy was insanely jealous of. How could he ever want to do this to himself?

Envy's eyes narrowed and he scowled, realizing now why Mustang had been so insistent that he not say anything to hurt the shrimp. How irritating, to be in front of your enemy and not be able to insult them.

Worse, to not want to.

Envy rubbed his head and sighed, earning a small glance from Edward before the boy looked away again, the nurse finishing up her duties. He shouldn't have agreed to come here.

* * *

Edward was silent as he watched the nurse go. When no one else filled the quiet room with speech, he began to fidget, running his hands along the new bandages and through his hair. He made a face, and spoke. "Can't anyone get me a hair tie?"

"Brother, are you supposed to have them?"

Ed snorted. "What can I possibly do to myself with a hair tie? It's not big enough to fit around my neck."

His brother jumped a bit at his bluntness, but Edward knew that was why he was lacking so many things in his room. The doctors and nurses were afraid he would try to hurt himself, or kill himself, and had to take precautions. Honestly, it was probably a good idea, but really, hair ties?

Al reached out and clapped, touching the corner of Ed's blanket. He handed him the newly made tie.

"Thanks," Edward murmured. Again, silence ensued, and he found it hard to continue to avoid Envy's gaze, as he had since the homunculus entered the room.

Almost as if he were magnetized, Ed looked at Envy, directly into his purple eyes. He was nervous about what he would find there, but it was mostly shock, with only a faint edge of something else. Whether the mystery emotion was sinister or not, Edward could not say.

Envy frowned slightly, and batted his hand at Roy and Al. "I think I need to have a talk with Shor—Edward."

Ed raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear Envy correct himself and call him by his name, almost like the homunculus was trying not to upset him with insults to his height. He needn't have worried; Edward was too preoccupied with more important issues to worry about being small.

Roy glared at the homunculus, and Alphonse became defensive. "No way!" he protested. "I don't even know why you're _here_. I'm not leaving you alone with my brother!"

Envy rolled his eyes, and gave Al the middle finger. "He's the one who wanted me here. I just want to talk to him."

Maybe Edward was simply too infatuated. Maybe he was too eager for harm to come to him. Whatever the reason, he found himself murmuring, "It's okay, Al. You go get something to eat with Roy, or something. I'll be fine."

"Brother!" Alphonse insisted. "He'll kill you! I—I know you might feel like you want that, but I won't let it happen!"

Ed winced at the words. Envy huffed.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt him. He's done enough of that himself. Besides, your Colonel here has informed me that he'll murder me if I try, and I do have some desire for self preservation."

Roy leaned down and whispered something in Al's ear. Alphonse's eyes widened, and he clapped a hand to his mouth, staring at Edward. Ed had a sneaking suspicion Roy had just informed Al about Edward's feelings towards envy.

The man straightened and suggested a compromise. "We'll stand out in the hall," he suggested, gesturing towards the windowed door to the room, "and just watch."

"_Fine!_" Envy hissed, impatience making his pupils dilate. "Just get out already!"

Edward had no idea why the homunculus was so eager to talk to him, and tried to ignore the flips his stomach was doing.

As soon as Roy and Al closed the door, worried faces appearing in the window, Envy asked the question: "Why the hell would you do this?"

The idea of telling him the truth didn't even cross Ed's mind. Instead, he looked away, muttering, "It's none of your business."

"The fuck it isn't!" Envy insisted. "You wanted me here for whatever reason, so you _made_ it my business."

Edward glared up at him, trying to work up enough anger to look menacing. He probably just looked scared. "I'm not telling you."

"Well I can leave then, right?" Envy began to walk towards the door.

"No!" Ed jumped up, grabbing Envy's arm and wincing at the tearing sensation he felt in his thigh. He'd reacted without thought, and shuddered to imagine what Roy and Al were thinking, watching the tiny spectacle.

The homunculus allowed himself to be stopped. "Why not?"

Edward looked down, pressing his free hand on the small spot of blood blossoming on his fresh leg bandages. "I just want you here," he whispered, pressing harder. The red moved faster, spreading across and staining the perfect white. "What else do you have to do?" he continued. "Why can't you stay?"

Ed was grimacing now, pressing his fingers into the reopened cut as much as he could, his breath beginning to quicken.

* * *

Envy realized too late what the pipsqueak was doing. "Ed! No!" He yanked the boy's arm away from his leg, ignoring the whimper the action caused.

Envy didn't know what was eating at Edward so badly that he would resort to this, but even a sterile environment was evidently not a safe place for the boy. He would hurt himself just with his bare hands. Hell, the shrimp was desperate enough to do it _in front_ _of other people_.

"Fine," Envy sighed, keeping a tight hold on Edward's hand. "I'll stay."


	6. Chapter 6

Envy thought he was going to be sick.

He was a monster, and not overly upset by the fact. He killed people, and enjoyed it. He had started the Ishbalan war, had helped in the attempt to destroy all of Amestris. He was a _bad fucking person_.

But here he was, watching Edward Elric sleep on a hospital bed. Just like he had been all night.

What was _wrong_ with him? No, that wasn't right. What was wrong with the _shrimp_? How had he managed to hit upon the one thing—cutting himself—that actually made Envy sympathetic? And then to ask Envy to come to the hospital, to beg him to stay…it was almost like the pipsqueak was doing this just to torture him.

Envy didn't _want_ to feel bad for Edward. If he did, then he would open himself up to other weak emotions, and that was not a road he wanted to go down. But it was, Envy admitted, too late. Far too late.

Because when Edward had been standing there, digging his fingers into his well-abused legs, Envy had wanted to stop him. Had needed to stop him. Had stopped him. And Envy had agreed to stay, of his own volition. Because, honestly, he didn't want to see the shrimp doing that to himself.

He—really, he was going to throw up, how could he be acting so unlike a homunculus?—wanted to help.

Envy told himself it was just because it was self harm. That he only felt bad, that he only had these stupid, weak human feelings because this was something he identified with.

Because if he allowed himself to consider the alternative—that he was simply going soft, wasn't as tough as he looked—he might just explode.

That is what Envy tried to tell himself as he cooked up a game. A _goddamn game_ of all things, just to try to help Edward fucking Elric.

* * *

Edward sat, chewing his toast as inconspicuously as possible. Still, he could not help but glance furtively over at Envy.

What had possessed him to force the homunculus to stay the night?

No, that was a stupid question. Edward _knew_ why he did it…but that didn't mean he had to like it.

What was he supposed to _say_? He wanted Envy there, but he was afraid to speak. He didn't think the homunculus would hurt him, and he didn't really care if he ended up being wrong about that. But he didn't want Envy to ask him about why he had to stay again…

So they sat in silence.

Edward gulped down the last of his toast and brushed his hands free of crumbs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Envy watching him, and he put down his plate on the side table self-consciously.

As soon as he did so, the homunculus spoke. "We're going to play a game, Ed."

Edward raised his eyebrows, staring at Envy. "A game? I'm not a kid."

"Look," Envy growled. "Do you have any idea how weird it is for me to do this? To play the nice guy? _I'm not the nice guy_. This shouldn't be my job, but you made it my job. So suck it the fuck up, and play the goddamn game."

Taken aback, Ed agreed. "Fine. What game?"

Envy took a breath and…was that a blush? "Look, I'm just assuming—again, because _I'm not getting a lot of information here_—that you're cutting at least partially because you hate yourself. So the game is supposed to remind you of the good things about yourself. We'll do me first, then you, so you can get the idea. I'll list all the things I love about myself, and then you can tell me what I missed. And then I'll do the same for you."

Edward could not believe he was in this situation. Envy, the murderous homunculus, trying to make him feel better about himself…through a _game_.

"Ready?" the homunculus prompted. He seemed eager to get it over with.

Ed nodded.

"Alrighty then. I love that I can shape shift. I love my hair and how weird it is, even if you think it looks like a—"

"Palmtree."

Envy glared. "I love how I can fight and—at least in my mind—it looks elegant, like a dance." Edward was surprised to hear that come out of the homunculus's mouth; it was so _dainty_. "I love that I'm confident. Regardless of what everyone else thinks, I love being sadistic. I love my expressions and how overdone I've made them and how exciting that is."

He stopped. Ed stared at him, and he finished lamely: "That's it."

As though the words had been a trigger, Edward's eyes widened. He had just realized; now it was _his_ turn to compliment Envy.

Oh, this was going to be awkward.

He looked down at his blanket as he began in a whisper, trying to prevent any red from creeping into his face. "This is so weird," he muttered. "I…I love your eyes. How they're purple and that's just so strange, but it fits you. I love how even though you fight for things I don't believe in, you give it your all. I love how you can be sitting here right now and not be trying to kill me. I love your voice and your creepy laugh, because even though it sometimes scares the shit out of me, it's just so _you_. I love that I know there's more to you than just hatred, and I love that I can still hope that some good lives in you."

As he finished, Envy stood, rising from his perch on one of the chairs to lean across the bed. "You put a lot more thought into that than I would have predicted," he murmured, a sneaky smile on his face.

Try as he might, Edward could not stop a blush. He tried to hide it with irritation. "Yeah, well, this game was your idea!"

Envy leaned back and grinned. "Do yourself, then. That's the whole point. What do you love about you?"

Ed looked towards the ceiling this time as he contemplated his answer. "I love my hair," he stated. "I love my smile. I love my scars, even the ones from cutting, because they tell a story and that's important to me. I…well, I hate this and I love this. My ability to care for people. I think it's important, but it's also a pain…" Absentmindedly, he pulled at the bandages on his wrist. "I love that I take care of Al…" His face fell, and he added, "But I've done a pretty good job of screwing that up, now."

Envy shook his head. "See how hard that was for you? You have to _love_ yourself, Edward."

Ed glared up at him. "Let's see what you have to add, then."

The homunculus tapped his finger on his chin as if thinking. "Well, I love your height," he started, grinning wickedly. "So perfect and tiny and good for teasing. Also, I can't imagine you being taller. I don't like the idea. I also love your eyes, how they look like they're lit up from the inside. I love how angry you get; again because it's fun to mess with you, but I guess also because it shows your spirit. I think it's stupid, but I also love how you don't ever want to kill people, even when you could save someone you care about by doing so. It's something I can't comprehend. I love how you can fight someone like me and not lose hope even though you'd have to kill me a thousand times to be rid of me."

Edward stared up at Envy, unable to believe what he was hearing. Fierce, raging joy swelled up in him before he could stop it. This was _Envy_, the person (for lack of a better word) that he _loved_…telling him about his good points. But still, he had to remind himself of Envy's past, of what he was.

As the homunculus trailed off, he caught Ed's gaze, and seemed to realize how much he had said. He scowled slightly, but couldn't keep it up in the face of whatever he saw in Edward's eyes. The two stared at each other for a moment, lost in the surreal situation, until Envy coughed and broke the spell.

Looking away, Ed muttered, "Thanks for that."

"No problem…Shorty."


	7. Chapter 7

After playing that odd little game with Envy, and having his first shower since arriving at the hospital Edward felt…fresh. Not healed, not free of his thoughts, but better for the first time in a long while. At the very least, he had been able to forget, momentarily during the game, how…horrible Envy was.

And while he was in such a comparatively good mood, Ed wanted to go for a walk.

"Please?" he begged the nurse he had called in.

"I can't let you go without an escort," she insisted.

Envy snorted in the corner. "What, don't I count?"

The nurse looked him over, and Edward read disapproval in her gaze. Now that he thought about it, Roy had probably only been able to sneak the homunculus in due to his position in the military. "No," she answered shortly. "You aren't staff."

"Why do I have to have _staff_ around?" Ed pouted. "Can't it just be someone I trust?" His heart jumped into his throat at the ironic implication of his statement: that he trusted Envy.

Judging by the homunculus's grin, he had caught the slip.

"_No_," the nurse said again. "With all due respect Mr. Elric, you're not in your right state of mind. Just because you trust someone," she glanced at Envy, "doesn't mean they should be trusted."

Normally, Edward would have argued, but considering who was the topic of discussion, he really couldn't. Instead, he changed tactics. "What about my brother?"

The nurse considered him carefully. "I suppose I could allow that."

Ed grinned widely. "I'll just wait for him to come in then." The nurse nodded and left.

"I love it when people think I'm a threat," Envy muttered, stretching.

"You can hardly blame them, Envy," Edward responded.

Rather than continue the conversation, the homunculus noted something. "You know, it's weird hearing you say my name and _not_ be angry. I'm used to you screaming at me."

Ed rolled his eyes. "What else am I supposed to call you? Palmtree?"

"Shorty."

"Transvestite."

"Pipsqueak."

"Am I interrupting something?" Alphonse poked his head in the doorway, eyes betraying both amusement and apprehension. Edward couldn't help but gulp, having not yet spoken to Al about his affections for Envy.

The homunculus answered him with a wave of his hand. "Nah, we're done. This shrimp doesn't have any other insults to throw at me."

Try as he might, Edward couldn't, in fact, think of anything else. After all, Envy would probably take "homicidal maniac" as a compliment. He turned to Alphonse. "Hey, you feel like being my escort on a walk? The nurse won't let me outside unless you're with me."

"Yeah," Envy interjected, pouting. "She doesn't trust me."

Al ignored the homunculus, and Ed wondered if he really was the only one who could, would talk to Envy normally. It wouldn't surprise him, but still, it was a little strange to realize. "Sure, Brother."

"Excellent!" Edward stretched his legs, and slid off the bed, suddenly painfully aware of how small his gown was. "Eh, Alphonse?"

His brother snickered slightly, but his smile vanished as he spoke. "They saved the clothes you were brought in," he muttered awkwardly. "Uhm…a lot of them were covered in blood, but I think your coat might be okay…that way you can at least cover up."

Edward tried to ignore his guilt as he watched his brother walk over to the closet and bring out his well-worn red coat. He smiled at it fondly, slipping his arms into the sleeves and holding it closed.

Ed walked out the door just behind Alphonse, but stopped when he realized Envy wasn't coming. He hesitated; he wanted the homunculus to come, but didn't want to show how much he craved Envy's company…"Envy?"

Rolling his eyes, Envy started forward. "You sure are needy."

Edward turned around to face his brother's back once more, smiling just slightly.

* * *

The courtyard in the center of the hospital was small, but furnished like a park, full of trees and flowers and benches for patients and their guests/escorts to sit on.

As soon as he stepped outside, Edward grinned, stretching upwards. The sun was so pleasant, so warm. He'd only deprived of it for a couple of days, but it still felt like a long time.

Ed began at a brisk pace around the courtyard, matched by Alphonse. Envy hung back, arms crossed behind his head.

"Brother," Al hissed, keeping his voice low.

"What?" Ed murmured back, trailing one hand along a nearby bush.

"Envy?" Alphonse asked simply. "_He's _the one?"

Edward blushed and glanced back to make sure said homunculus was out of hearing range before answering. "Yes," he muttered guiltily. "I know it's crazy—I told you that before—but he's the person I was talking about."

"The person you fell in love with," Al stated blatantly.

All Ed could do was nod.

Alphonse sighed. "I don't like it, Brother."

"Neither do I."

* * *

Envy was getting bored of the two brothers whispering in front of him. He sped up, and placed an elbow gently (had he _ever_ thought that word before? Hell, had he ever _needed_ to?) on Edward's head as he walked beside them. "Yo, you can't bring me out here and then leave me by myself back there."

To his surprise, the shrimp did not move out from under him. "You could have just walked a little faster, Envy," he said. "Also, I'm not an armrest."

"But it's so cozy," Envy whined, unable to keep from grinning.

"Envy," Alphonse warned. His voice was clipped and harsh. "I suggest you not upset my brother, because I will beat the living shit out of you."

Envy couldn't help but laugh at that, removing his arm from its blonde cushion to clutch his stomach. "If you say so."

Another surprise; Edward _actually_ came to his defense. "Al, it's okay. He's not hurting me."

Was Envy crazy? Okay, that was definitely possible, but still…he didn't think he was hallucinating.

The pipsqueak continued. "Actually, do you mind hanging back a bit? I want to ask Envy something."

Oh, this was just too good. Envy allowed his glee to show, but not his curiosity. What could Ed want to know? Alphonse glared at him, glancing exasperatedly at his brother, and sat down on a bench the trio had just passed up.

Envy slid an arm around Edward's shoulders, just to irritate the younger one. "So, whatchya wanna know?"

The shrimp ducked out of his grasp, face heating up. Envy snickered.

"Calm down, it's just an arm."

The pipsqueak shook his head. "You're insane. I just wanted to know…why you bothered coming here. Why you made up that game, why you're being so unusually…civil."

Envy widened his eyes in mock horror. "'Civil?' I've been being a hell of a lot more than _civil_!" He did this to buy time. What was he supposed to say? That he was coming undone at the seams and actually felt bad for Ed?

"I'm serious, Envy."

Envy debated for a moment about what to say, and came to a simple conclusion: being a jackass all the time hadn't really worked out for him. Actually, it had gotten him almost killed on countless occasions. Besides, he'd already opened up _way_ more than he wanted to that morning with that stupid ass game of his.

"Honestly, at first it was because I thought it would be a great opportunity to fuck with you. You were asking _Mustang_ to come get _me_. Because _you wanted to see me_—by the way, do I ever get an explanation for that?"

"No."

Envy stuck his tongue out, but continued. "It was a bit of a shocker to see that you were cutting yourself. That's…maybe the one thing that actually makes me queasy. It hits too close to home, I guess. And it was just _wrong_ for someone as fucking perfect as you do that, so…"

When Edward didn't respond, Envy turned to look at him. The shrimp's face was closed off, careful, but his eyes were shining.

"Thank you," he whispered.

The moment might have been beautiful, if Envy hadn't noticed Ed's hand pressing, this time, violently into his opposite wrist. He grabbed it immediately, turning the shorty around.

"Ed, don't do that. C'mon, let's go, you're gonna need some new bandages now."

Edward seemed to not have noticed what he was doing, or at least, that's what he pretended. "You know, I don't think I'll cut again. The aftermath is just such a hassle."

"Edward fucking Elric."

The pipsqueak looked up at him in shock, held in place by Envy still holding his hands. "You listen to me. You shouldn't cut because you have people who care for you. You have your brother and Mustang."

Ed turned away then, and whispered, so quiet Envy was sure he was not meant to hear: "Yeah, but the one person I want to care the most is just out of my reach."


	8. Chapter 8

When they got back from their walk, Roy was waiting in Edward's room, pacing.

"Ed!" He cried with relief. "I thought something had happened to you!"

"Nah," Edward muttered, glad for his coat hiding his now-stained bandages. He didn't want Roy to know, hadn't wanted _anyone_ to know in the first place. "We just went for a walk."

Envy opened his mouth, and Ed hoped fervently that he wasn't going to say anything about him still trying to self harm. "Before you ask, Alphonse is in the cafeteria getting Ed and him some dinner."

Roy nodded as Edward clambered back onto the bed. As good as it had felt to get up and move, he had to admit his legs were throbbing painfully. He sighed, thumb rubbing the button to call the nurse, but not pressing. Ed _really_ didn't want to disappoint Roy with his lack of recovery, especially after the man had gone and gotten Envy for him. He knew that couldn't have been easy.

"I'm impressed, Ed," Roy said after he was situated. "I know it's only been a couple days, but you seem a little better."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's a light in your eyes," Roy explained. "Before, they were dead…just like when I first saw you after you tried to bring back your mother. Now there's hope again."

Edward knew what hope he was talking about, and it stung him just as much as it helped him. The hope that maybe Envy had changed, maybe he could be a real person, maybe, maybe, maybe…

He traced the button once more.

* * *

Envy noticed the pipsqueak fidgeting with the button and sighed internally. He had to get his bandages changed, but evidently didn't want to do it in front of Mustang again. That meant it was his job (more and more ridiculous things were his job lately, what did they think he was, a goddamn fix-all?) to distract the man so Ed could get his bandages changed.

Luckily, he actually had wanted to talk to Mustang. "Yo, I need to talk to you. Outside."

The man sighed, shooting him a fierce look. "Is this really necessary? I brought you here for Ed, not so that I would have to deal with you too."

"What, you think I like having long, drawn out conversations with you? _Yes_, it's necessary."

Grumbling, Mustang led the way to the door. Envy followed suit, looking back before he closed the door to see that Edward had pushed the call button.

When he turned to face the man, he was faced with a furious expression. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that would be real scary, _Colonel_, if I was a puppy." Envy shifted, became a dog. "Whoops, my mistake, still doesn't faze me."

"Would you just ask your question and get over it?" Mustang growled.

Envy shrugged, the movement ushering in his return to his normal form. "Look, all I want to know is why you brought me here."

The man hesitated, raised an eyebrow as a nurse brushed past them and into Edward's room. He moved as though he was going to follow, but Envy stopped him with a firm hand to the shoulder. "Seriously, why?"

* * *

As the nurse walked into the room, Edward took off his coat, balling it up and letting it sit on the side of his bed.

"What did you need, Child?"

Somehow the words weren't condescending, and Ed found himself immediately liking this woman. She exuded a certain motherly warmth that he wasn't entirely opposed to at the moment. "I, um, need you to change my bandages…"

Frowning, the nurse checked her chart. "You got your bandages changed yesterday?" Edward nodded. "Then you really don't need fresh ones again just yet—"

Ed held out his wrist, showing her the splotch of fresh blood seeping out from the inside. "I have one on my leg, too," he whispered, avoiding her gaze.

"Oh, you poor Child," the nurse murmured, immediately beginning to unwrap his arm. "How did…?"

"My fingers."

She nodded. "They can take everything from you but your hands, and where there's a will, there's a way. I hope you lose that will real soon, Child, 'cause you don't need to do this."

Ed simply watched as her hands swiped a disinfectant over his wounds, not really noticing the sting. He wished he could get rid of the will, too.

"Why do you do it?"

"What?" Edward snapped out of his daze as she finished his arm and began working on his thigh.

"Why do you hurt yourself like this?"

Ed could see no reason to answer her, but found himself doing so anyway. "I'm in love with a…murderer. And I hate myself for that."

The nurse, to his surprise, smiled up at him. "That's silly. No one can control who they love, you just gotta work with what you've got. I'm sure you can fix him right up."

Edward couldn't help but grin back.

* * *

Instead of answering Envy's question, Mustang asked one in return. "Do you mind? Are you really upset that I brought you?"

Taken aback, Envy thought about it. "No," he finally answered as the nurse came back out of the room and bustled off to her next patient. "No, I don't _mind_…I mean, I wasn't really doing anything until you did, so this is better than nothing. I just want to know why the pipsqueak asked for me."

Again, a question: "What do you feel about Edward?"

Envy thought that he felt he'd like to shove Mustang's head up his ass if he didn't just fucking _answer_. "I don't understand."

"Do you like him?" the man suggested. "Want to kill him still, want to help him? Are you jealous of him, do you pity him? Do you love him, do you hate him?"

Envy stepped back as though electrified, hitting the wall behind him, hard. What was this, an interrogation? What if the answer was none of those options? What if it was all of them? Reeling inside, he balked at the last few words. Love, hate, what do you feel, Envy?

* * *

Edward heard a thump from outside and sighed. They wouldn't be fighting, would they? Well…yes, they might. Ed crept out of his bed and towards the door, pressing his ear to the glass to see if he heard sounds of blows being thrown.

* * *

Confused, not wanting to think about the question, Envy finally exploded. "I don't feel anything about the shrimp!" he hissed. "I'm a homunculus! I don't feel, and one little blonde _pipsqueak_ isn't going to change that!"

Pushing past Mustang, he stalked away. He had to get somewhere quiet, somewhere he wouldn't have to consider what had just been asked of him…or what he had just said.

* * *

Ed jumped back with the force of Envy's words, an immediate shadow falling over him. So Envy didn't care _at all_? Didn't even have the passionate dislike needed to hate him? No, Envy had said it all; he was a homunculus and Edward could do nothing to change that.

His breathing became ragged, and that singular thought, that he was _nothing_ to Envy, rolled over and over in his mind. Edward automatically grabbed for his wrists, forgetting about the fresh white gauze and digging his fingers in, _hard_.

But it wasn't enough. Ed's vision blurred and his heart throbbed violently with his pulse, but it wasn't enough. He needed to _cut_, to see his blood running down his hands until there was nothing left.

He began to search desperately, yanking on the metal bed frame with all his might, then the doorknob, finally snapping the majority off. He retreated to a corner, hidden behind his bed, and curled in on himself, extending just one arm.

Edward gazed in relief at the sharp, broken edge, pain clouding his judgment, and brought it to his bicep.


	9. Chapter 9

Roy was standing there, staring disappointed after the retreating homunculus, when the door to Edward's room jerked oddly.

He frowned, wondering if Ed might have thrown something at it to get their attention. Why else would it buck like that? Roy grabbed the doorknob…and it came off. Now the boy had broken something. Broken a metal doorknob.

Roy clapped his hands as the possibility struck him, never gladder to be able to do alchemy without a transmutation circle. He created a new door, forcing his way in the smaller opening, and was faced with what seemed to be an empty room. But that wasn't possible.

A slight gasp made Roy focus on the area obscured by the bed, and he ran over, finding exactly what he had been afraid of.

"Ed!" he half-yelled, prying the hunk of metal away from the boy, away from his ripped, bleeding arm. It was hard; Edward seemed to have been digging it inward, making a hole in his flesh. Once he got it away, Roy put the doorknob piece in his pocket with distaste, kneeling in front of the blonde on the floor. "Ed, what happened? Why…?"

Edward had tears running down his cheeks, and as soon as Roy had taken his makeshift knife away, he had started to sob. "Envy," the boy got out. "I—heard you—talking—and Envy—!" he wailed, unable to complete the thought.

"Shit," Roy whispered. "Ed, that's…"

"He—doesn't even—care enough to _hate me_!" Edward sobbed, pushing his fingers into the wound now. That was new—Roy pulled his hands away, restraining them in his grip. A fresh rage washed over him. That homunculus and his _stupid _mouth. Roy could tell that Envy had just been blowing off steam, but obviously Ed had taken his words to heart. He stood up, eyes dark.

"I'm going to go get him." Edward only buried his head in his knees.

It didn't take long to find Envy. He was still roaming the halls, a scowl on his face. The expression deepened, until Roy balled his fist and punched Envy square in his mouth.

"You _fucker_!" he shouted, pounding the homunculus again and again. "You complete and utter, _dick_!"

"Ouch—what the hell—ow!" Envy scampered down the hall, glaring back, poised to defend himself now. "The fuck was that for?"

"He _heard _you!" Roy hissed. "Ed wasn't happy to learn that you didn't give a shit about him."

The homunculus's eyes widened, what might have been genuine concern passing through them. "Dammit."

Roy pulled the bloody doorknob out of his pocket and shoved it in Envy's face, letting the hunk of metal speak for itself. The homunculus's eyes dilated slightly, almost like a reptile's would, and he stepped around Roy, running down the hall.

Roy followed, but stopped once he saw Envy dart inside Edward's room. At least he was facing what he caused, seeing what being such an asshole did.

He'd still have to destroy the bastard later though.

Envy barreled into Ed's room, whipping his head back and forth when he did not immediately see the pipsqueak. Where was he? Then a sob, from the corner.

Skidding the last few feet on his knees, Envy came to a rest in front of a hysterical Edward, who was sitting in a growing puddle of blood and attempting to stifle his sobs by biting on his hands. No, scratch that, who was biting his hands _open_.

Envy pulled the hand gently from the shrimp's mouth. "Ed, no, Ed, I'm sorry."

Edward looked up and glared at him, golden eyes faltering after only a moment. He hid his face in his knees as the tears continued to stream down. Envy was surprised to hear him let out a low whimper and pull his arm away, only to dig his fingers into his one flesh shin weakly.

Envy sat back slightly. "Ed, you can't keep doing this," he said softly.

He hadn't expected a reaction at all, but the one he received was downright violent. Edward jerked his head up, eyes fiery. He was so energized, manic. "Why the hell should you care? You don't care what I do—" though the sobs had magically disappeared, the pipsqueak couldn't suppress a hiccup. "—you don't have an opinion on me at all, so just _let me bleed_." Saying this, Ed moved his hands to his arm, where for the first time Envy noticed a large…wound, not a cut so much as a chunk dug out of the flesh, the source of all the blood on the floor. He paled, grabbed not just Edward's hands but his entire body, and pulled the boy onto his lap.

The shrimp fought hard, but he couldn't do much after having lost all that blood.

"Ed, you can't keep cutting. I don't know why you do—okay, I know this time, and I'm sorry—but you can't. I…I know what it's like to hate yourself enough to want to destroy yourself. I hate seeing other people self harm, especially when it's someone as strong as you."

Edward hiccupped again, scoffed, "If it bothers you that much, find some poor soul—" hiccup "—you actually give a shit about and rescue _them_."

Envy sighed, resting his chin on the blonde hair beneath his head. He felt the pipsqueak stiffen, punch his chest weakly, but he didn't back off. "I was just trying to get Roy off my ass, you know. He's got no right to interrogate me like that, to bring up that kind of shit. I don't want to think about feelings. I shouldn't them, and when I do, it's…weird. I didn't want to deal with it, so I just said something stupid and stormed off."

"So what _do_ you feel about me then? Can you honestly say you give a shit at all?" Ed whispered, voice raw. This question held a certain weight to it, an importance to the shrimp Envy couldn't quite identify.

"Yes," he responded, forcing the word out though everything inside him was screaming that no, he couldn't, he was a homunculus, he needed to go kill someone and murder these weak emotions and get back to being what he should be. "I do. I hate seeing you like this. I miss the strong Edward who would kick my ass. I don't know what's making you do this, but I want it to stop."

To his surprise, the boy started crying. "Do you know how shitty this is?"

Envy sensed Ed was about to say something important, but was having trouble focusing. His words were soft, and it seemed to take a huge amount of energy for the shrimp to speak. He reached up surreptitiously and pressed the call button beside the bed. "How shitty what is?"

"To hate being alone and wanting to be with the person you love, but also to find that you kind of hate that person? To hate yourself more than anything for loving them?"

Envy had no answer, confused, and was still silent when the nurse showed up, shrieking in surprise and automatically calling in some of her colleagues.

He was somewhat numb as they pulled Edward away, his red stained clothes sticking to Envy. Looking down, he saw the blood Ed had left on him, ran his fingers through it and looked at the wet digits sadly. How could this happen? What was the pipsqueak talking about?

Now wasn't the time to ask him. Instead, as the nurses brought in a stretcher and laid Edward out on it, he murmured a more important question: "Ed, do you want me to wait for you here? After I clean up?"

"No." The voice was faint, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. However, what it lacked in strength it made up for in determination, in sureness.

And for the first time since he had been brought to the hospital to see the shrimp, Edward said it. "Leave."


	10. Chapter 10

If having to talk about his self harming with Roy, Al, and Envy was hard, it was nothing compared to having to tell a stranger about all his problems.

Edward sat in a squeaky leather chair, facing the psychiatrist. He was old, but not elderly. He seemed kind, but did not smile. His name was Dr. Bandeau.

"Mr. Elric," he murmured. Perhaps Ed was just nervous, but already, just in saying his name, Dr. Bandeau seemed to be invasive, his voice probing. "First of all, how are you doing?"

Rather self-consciously, Edward stroked his newest bandage, the one on his upper arm. Now that he wasn't in the moment, it hurt quite a bit, despite the pain medication he had been given upon waking up. After all, he had literally carved a divot into his arm. "I'm fine," he whispered.

"Mr. Elric—may I call you Edward? Edward, you don't have to play tough."

"I'm not trying to play tough!" Ed half-glared at the man, frowning. "I just don't know what to tell you! I'm not going to be that woe-is-me person who goes around bemoaning how much it hurts. I did this, I knew it was going to be a pain in my ass later, but I did it anyway because I needed to, and I'll deal with the consequences."

Dr. Bandeau stared at him, and Edward saw a twinge of sadness in the man's brown eyes. "I didn't mean to imply that you should milk the situation for attention. I'm just trying to explain to you that you don't need to sugarcoat it either. What you just told me, that was the truth."

Ed bit his lip, nodded. He hadn't meant to snap at the man, he was just…scared. He didn't know Dr. Bandeau, and honestly, the thought of telling a stranger how weak he had become was repellant. He rubbed absently at the bandages on his wrist.

"You're distressed," the doctor noted.

"Well, yeah. It's kind of been a permanent state lately."

Dr. Bandeau stood, circled round his desk to watch Ed. His rubbing increased. "You know, Edward, that's what we really need to talk about. Of course, we want to help you, and usually we might take this a little slower, but…your situation seems extreme. For you to be so resourceful as to use your hands, even to tear off a doorknob...I need to know why you self harm."

"I know," Edward sighed. "I hate explaining this part."

"Why?"

"Because I know it's stupid, in a way. And I hadn't had to explain until I was caught, and I wish that hadn't happened."

"If you hadn't been caught," the man said slowly, leaning forward. "You might not be here. You might have died. Would that be a better alternative?"

"I don't know."

Silence filled the office, and Ed began to pull at the edges of the gauze, uncomfortable under the psychiatrist's scrutiny.

"Edward, I don't want to be rude, but if you can't stop, I'm going to have to restrain your arms."

Ed flushed, and sat on his hands. Immediately the desire to have them back on his skin, in his skin, tearing at muscle and blood filled him. He started shaking.

"You're first response to stress is now to cut," the doctor noted. "Please, you haven't answered my question. What is the source of this depression?"

"I hate myself, but not for the usual reasons," Edward whispered. "I don't have a problem with how I look, or who I am…for the most part. See, I'm…I'm in love with this…guy." He stopped. Every time, he got stuck there. After all, Envy wasn't exactly human. It felt strange to call him a "guy" and that was a whole separate issue.

Dr. Bandeau evidently thought he was finished. "So you're upset because you find yourself having homosexual thoughts?"

Ed shook his head. "No, not at all. That doesn't bother me. Who cares, right? It's just different parts a person has. No, it's…this person—"

"Shall we give him a name? You can make one up, if you don't want to tell me."

"No, that's okay. His name's Envy."

"That's an unusual name," Dr. Bandeau remarked.

Edward snorted. "He's an unusual person. And…he's a murderer. He enjoys it, loves to see other people in pain. He once started a war, literally, and when he told me, he was…ecstatic about it." His hands were digging into the leather seat beneath him as he tried to, if not stop, at least redirect his harmful tendencies. "What kind of person does that make me, if I fall in love with someone like _that_?"

"I would say a compassionate one. Someone with an astounding ability to care. I admire that, Edward."

Ed furrowed his brow. "Are you kidding?"

For the first time, Dr. Bandeau smiled. "I don't joke around with patients."

"You're proud of me for loving a homicidal maniac?"

"Yes. Because it is something not everyone can do. That's something that takes real heart, Edward."

Ed found this hard to accept. Surely, if he loved Envy, he was just as horrible?

The doctor watched his emotions flash across his face. "Edward, just because you love a person does not mean you condone their actions. Do you approve of what he's done?"

"No!"

"Then you are not a bad person. Do you want to change him?"

Edward considered this. "Yeah, I do. I want to change him, but…more for selfish reasons that anything. I don't think he _can_ be changed, but…I want him to be able to love me, too."

The psychiatrist nodded. "This is a reasonable reaction. But see, you want to fix this man, Envy, you don't want to accept what he has done. You are not at fault."

Ed had never thought about it that way. That he could love Envy but still hate what he did… "But Envy _is_ his actions, isn't he?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. It varies based upon the person. I find that usually, there is much more to a person than what actions they take." The doctor paused. "Tell me, when was the last time you saw Envy?"

"Last night." In response to Dr. Bandeau's shocked face, Edward elaborated. "My…old boss brought him in after the first night I stayed here. He thought it would help me, to see him…he's stayed ever since."

"Then, I have a question for you. What have his _latest_ actions been?"

"Well," Ed spoke slowly. "When he first came here, he stayed with me when I asked him to. And he made up this silly game, trying to make me feel better about myself—he doesn't know how I feel about _him_, so he thought it was something else about me. And I guess it helped, a little…" he trailed off, a faint smile on his face at the memory. "And he went for a walk in the courtyard with me and my brother. He…he's been around when I start, you know, trying to use my fingers. And he stopped me."

"Anything else?" Dr. Bandeau asked, after a pregnant pause.

Yes, there was something else. What Envy had said the night before, why Ed had ended up taking a chunk out of his arm.

"Yeah," Edward whispered. "Last night, he told my old boss—Colonel Mustang—that he didn't care about me. And…that's why I did what I did to my arm. But…afterwards, he came to me, and—" Ed couldn't suppress a blush. "—held me and said that he didn't mean it, and that he was sorry."

"And?" the doctor inquired. "Have you forgiven him?"

Ed looked down at his lap, letting his bangs hide his face. "I mean, I guess. It's…it's who he is, to say shit like that just to get out of a situation. And he apologized, but…it still hurts…"

Dr. Bandeau moved on. "Edward, if you considered only his most recent actions, would you say Envy is a bad person?"

"No," Ed admitted. "A bit of a jerk, maybe, or maybe just…someone who doesn't always think. But not a bad person."

He looked up at the doctor to see him smiling, really smiling, eyes twinkling. "I think you're buried too much in the past. It seems to me that you're already changing Envy, and that he cares about you a great deal…even if he doesn't know it yet."


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the late update; I might have been banned...XD**

* * *

True to his word, Envy hadn't waited in Edward's room. Instead, he'd wandered all over the hospital, lingering in the courtyard.

Now, the following morning, he was no closer to solving the subject of his musings than he was the previous night.

Ed's problem was that he was in _love_? _That's_ why he had been cutting? Of course, it went deeper; whoever he loved was apparently awful enough to make the pipsqueak hate himself for loving them. The thought was such a twisted one, it made Envy's head throb.

To think that the strongest person he had ever met was falling to pieces over _love_ was…insane.

And then there was the fact that it was Envy who had caused this latest episode. It was Envy who had hurt the boy enough to make him break a doorknob and carve a hole in his skin. The knowledge was surprisingly painful. Envy had never felt regret like this, never wanted to take back his words…never wished Edward would ask for him to come back so that he could hug the boy again and apologize once more.

Envy shook his head, faster and faster until the motion made him dizzy. He couldn't do anything about what he had said, not now. But he might be able to find out what Ed had meant when he was talking about love if he asked someone.

And who better to ask than the shrimp's brother?

Now he was searching the hospital, concentrating his efforts by the pipsqueak's room, figuring Al would at least be nearby.

And he was right. On this third pass by the door that was, metaphorically speaking, locked to him, it opened and Alphonse walked out.

"I'll be right back with some food and we can talk about it, yeah?" he called back, shutting the door and turning to see Envy.

Meanwhile, Envy's heart was plummeting. What _was_ this? Why should he care if the shrimp would talk to Al, but not to him?

"Oh, Envy." Alphonse's tone was carefully neutral, but Envy could see the murder in his eyes. Of course, no surprise there.

"I need to ask you something."

"Can we talk and walk? I want to get to the cafeteria before the lunch rush." Not waiting for an answer, Al began moving down the hall.

This was no problem for Envy, who had become rather wary of speaking outside of Edward's door, lest he say something stupid again. "Last night—with Ed—"

"After you shouted about not caring about him and then found my brother covered in his own blood?" Al asked scathingly, refusing to even glance at Envy.

"Yes," he whispered. "I—I didn't mean that, you know. I didn't know he could hear, and I was just trying to get Mustang off my back—"

"Save it."

Envy took a deep breath, half of him shrinking back at the reminder of just how badly he had fucked up, half of him wanting to punch Alphonse for interrupting his apology. "Anyway, I…I told him I was sorry and that I knew what it felt like, to hate yourself like that." Oh, Envy _hated_ to say that to Al, but he had to in order to explain. "And he said something…strange."

"Strange how?" Alphonse seemed intrigued, despite his efforts to remain distant.

"Something about me not knowing how it feels to love someone but knowing they're a bad person, and hating yourself because you love them. I…don't understand."

Al finally turned, thumping Envy hard on the back of his head. "Are you really that blind?"

Rubbing his head and scowling, Envy just stared at Alphonse.

"It's so obvious! Why the hell _else_ would Brother ever ask for you? Why would he want to see you? He meant just what he said. He is in love with someone, but hates himself for it. He's in love with you, Envy."

Al kept walking, but Envy froze mid step, his face slackening in shock.

Edward…was in love with _him_?

Now that the thought had been put out there, it made sense. That would explain why Ed had asked for him, why he had had so many positive things to say about Envy during their game, why Mustang had wanted to know how he felt about the pipsqueak…

Oh, fuck. This time, Envy knew, he couldn't run away, couldn't make anything up. He slid down the wall into a sitting position, considering the question: how _did_ he feel about Ed?

He didn't hate him, that was for sure. Envy hadn't been lying during the game. He honestly found Edward to be an attractive person with a strong personality. It used to be that Envy would hide his admiration behind jealousy, but now…he was so _tired_ of hiding. He had no one to prove anything to except himself. Everyone was gone; it wasn't like Father was going to come in and berate him for being too…human.

So then, if he didn't hate the shrimp…did Envy love him? Envy didn't even know what love _was_. Care, he knew that much. Did he care for the boy?

"Yes," Envy whispered to himself. Of course he did. That much was proven by his actions, even if he found it hard to admit. He hated to see Ed hurting himself, wanted to stop it, had done everything he could to make him feel better, had held the pipsqueak in his arms and wanted to do so again. Yes, he cared. More than he ever thought possible.

Was that the same as love? Real, romantic love? Envy balked at the idea. It was foreign…terrifying. But, could he be as afraid of the concept as he was if somewhere deep down he didn't think it was true?

Envy leapt to his feet. He had to see Edward. He had to see him _now_.

* * *

Edward jumped as Envy burst into the room, a rush of emotions washing over him. Not seeing the homunculus even for the night had been harder than expected.

"Ed!" Envy breathed, walking over to his bed. There, he seemed to find himself at a loss. The homunculus fumbled, before finally looking Edward in the eye. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said…what I said to Mustang. I know I told you last night, but…"

"It's okay," Ed whispered.

Gently, Envy ran his fingers down Edward's injured arm. "What are you doing here?" Ed asked finally, barely suppressing a shiver as the homunculus's fingers crossed over his newest bandage with a feathery touch.

To his surprise, Envy looked…almost embarrassed. "I was talking to Alphonse…about what you said last night, about hating loving someone…and he told me that you love me."

Edward paled, eyes widening. This was the end, then. Envy would be disgusted with him, and leave. Ed would be alone, and that wasn't something he wanted to face, especially not in light of the new hope Dr. Bandeau had inspired in him.

"Al," he hissed, letting his fear and humiliation be rechanneled into anger. He stood up and started towards the door, when an arm wrapped around his waist.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To teach my brother a lesson!" Edward muttered, fighting to get away. "Why would he do that? How could he tell you? That's not—not something I…" Try as he might to not panic, Ed felt his grasp on irritation giving way to hopelessness. He didn't want to give Envy up, didn't want to see the homunculus go, not now!

Envy's voice was soft, and so, so close to his ear. Ed shivered. "So it's true?" he asked, spinning Edward around to face him. "You love me?"

He couldn't lie, not with those purple irises watching him. "I love you," he admitted, forcing the words out.

"And you cut yourself because of that? It was my fault all along?"

"No," Ed insisted. "No, I just…"

Envy stared at him. "I'm sorry, Edward. You have no idea. I—the thought of causing you that much pain…I can't take it. I'm sorry."

Ed felt as though he was going to cry as the homunculus drew him into an embrace. Here it comes.

"Ed, I don't know how you can tell if you're in love," Envy whispered into his hair. Edward's hands grabbed at the homunculus involuntarily, trying to maximize the time and the contact before he left. "But I know I care about you more than I would think a homunculus would be capable of. I don't want you to hurt yourself, and I want to stay with you, if you aren't too angry with me. I want to help you. And…I might even love you."

Hesitantly, not believing what he had just heard, Edward backed away enough to look at Envy. "You…_might_ love me?"

The homunculus nodded. "That's the best I can give you. I don't know. All I _do _know is that I don't want to leave, that I want to watch you heal. If that's love, then…I guess you could say I love you."

Ed laughed, and hugged Envy tight. Maybe he had changed, if he could even admit that he cared. And maybe Edward could make Envy sure that he loved him. Maybe everything would be okay. "That's all I needed to hear."


	12. Author's Note

**The end. :')**

**This is really hard to end-the entire time I was writing, I just couldn't stop. **

**And a huge THANK YOU for making this my MOST REVIEWED Edvy fic, and second most reviewed fic overall. Means so much to me hearts**

**Please do leave a comment and let me know how you feel about the ending~ And keep checking back for new fics.**


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